


Incorrigible

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt from @bitchy-broken: "I wish you would write a fic where: Finn has openly flirted with Rae for years and she thinks he's just a charming flirt and doesn't take it seriously. She starts going out with a boring lad she meets telling the gang she didn't think she'd ever pull ever be able to pull anyone else. Cue angry outburst from Mr Nelson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incorrigible

It was the third summer of the gang being the gang.

The girls had taken their A-levels and were awaiting the results, Archie was back in town having just finished his first year at the University of Durham, and Chop had been promoted to foreman and was lording it over everyone in the repair shop, much to the consternation of Finn.

It was hot for July. Usually, they got a couple of scorchers in August, but it was sweltering even in the shade, and they were sitting in the sun-drenched yard of the beer garden.

Rae took her flannel off, which was a bloody miracle all on it’s own, and swigged some of her beer. “Christ, I’m hot,” she grumbled.

“Yeeeaaahhh, you are,” Finn drawled. It was almost an automatic response at this point. Rae was always too bundled up and complained about the heat even when it was temperate.

“Ha bloody ha,” Rae sang. “If I had a pound for every time you came out with that old chestnut …”

“Maybe you could buy a clue,” Finn mumbled into his beer.

“Hmmm?”

Finn shook his head and coughed, pointing with his hand that was holding his beer. “Look, it’s Chlo and Iz.”

Rae turned to see her friends sauntering over while Finn sighed in relief. Though part of him thought he should just fucking TELL HER. They only had this summer before she left and … well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

Chloe plopped down next to Rae, then scooched closer to grab hold of her friend’s arm. “Raaaeeee, guess what? You never will.”

Izzy shook her head, a wide grin stretched across her face.

Finn grimaced and took a drink of his beer, figuring this was going to be some lame ‘girly’ thing. He hunched over his glass and lamented the loss of the jukebox and the overabundance of fresh air.

“Let me guess …” Rae began. “You found the cutest outfit of all time?”

“Not this time.”

“Yyyyoooouuuu … met the cutest boy of all time?”

“Not exactly, but you’re warmer!”

Finn raised one eyebrow and glanced up.

“Yyyyyyooooouuuu—“

“I can’t wait for you to make ten more guesses! Y’remember that bloke Aaron from that party in Uffington we went to?”

Rae scrunched her nose in thought. “The one with the floppy hair and glasses?”

Chloe’s excited inhale hitched a bit at Rae’s description. “Well, yeah, but you said he was cute.”

Rae shrugged in agreement.

“Weeeeelllll, we ran into him just before we came here, and he asked about you!”

Rae’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really. Really? I doubt anyone’s ever asked about me. Wait … HOW did he ask about me? Was it you two droppin’ hints the size of bowling balls?”

Izzy shook her head vehemently, her red curls bouncing. “No! He brought you up, though he thought your name was Faye, but he said you were well cool and … anyway, he said we should give you his number.”

Finn stood up from the table abruptly, scraping his chair against the floor.

The girls all stared at him for a second. He lifted his nearly empty glass, and spat “Beer,” before walking inside.

There was a line at the bar, so Finn rested heavily against the polished curved wood edge and stared outside at the girls, fuming at them for scheming to set her up with some lame arsehole, and fuming at himself for never directly telling her how he felt. He swiveled to face the bar and leaned to slump forward over his folded arms. He groaned aloud and balled his fists. Pushing away from the bar, he stood up and walked out the front door of the pub, not waiting for his pint, not saying goodbye.

* * * * *

He’d tortured himself all night remembering all the awkward lines he’d laid on Rae over the years:

The time the gang were walking along the edge reservoir and he heard her stumble behind him. He reached back and said, “Your hand looks heavy. Let me hold it for you.” She’d rolled her eyes; looking away from the edge caused her to slip on some reeds, and they’d ended up grasping their hands together anyway.

*

The time she wore that red miniskirt he liked so much with her red flannel and he said, “I hope the fire brigade is on standby, ‘cause you’re smolderin’!” She’d rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder indicating he should stop. She didn’t look up to see the sincerity burning in his eyes.

*

The countless times he used a variation of “Is it hot in here or is it just you?” because he found her so irresistible. She tried to cover herself up, but she couldn’t hide her curves under boxy tees; they would not be denied, no matter how many layers she put on. He got countless eye rolls in response

*

The time he noticed a trailing lace on one of her Chucks, and leaned down to fix it. He quipped, “Let me tie your shoe; I don’t want you falling for anyone else!” He wondered if her eyes ever got tired from all the rolling. And he couldn’t follow up his lame lines, because deep down he knew she thought this was a game. He’d let it become a game, and now he couldn’t stop.

*

The time he’d found her sitting alone on a bench in the park and startled her out of a mournful reverie with, “Well, here I am. What were your other two wishes?” It had seemed to cheer her up, but she never let on that she hoped he was serious. And he was glad to have cheered her, even if she didn’t think of him the way he thought of her.

*

The time she wore a tee shirt with a cartoon fox stretched across the front, he joked, “Someone call the RSPCA, there’s a fox on the loose!” And he knew she would never get that he thought she really was a stone cold fox. And he didn’t know how to tell her the truth in a way that she would believe.

So, he just found new ways to flirt.

*

After that first summer, the gang started renting movies together. Sometimes it was everyone piled on someone’s sofa, usually Finn’s. His dad was away a lot, and he had the biggest front room.

Sometimes it was just Finn and Rae and Archie. And a few times, just the two of them; everyone else having begged off.

Finn knew that Archie knew. He’d gotten a couple of lectures from his friend about honesty and truthfulness. He couldn’t imagine the others didn’t have at least a notion that he fancied Rae, but no one ever directly said anything. It was just an undercurrent of the group’s dynamic. Finn would flirt; Rae would demur; nothing would ever actually happen.

*

He started quoting movie lines at her. It was safe to use someone else’s words, and he could always laugh it off if she got mad.

After seeing Swingers, he was fond of telling her “You’re so money and you don’t even know it!” She would reply, “You’re so full of shit and you totally know it!”

Sometimes he’d employ Archie to set him up. Like this chestnut from So I Married an Axe Murderer: “Finn, what do you look for in a woman you date?” He’d grinned at Archie and replied with the next line, “I know everyone always says sense of humor, but I’d really have to go with breast size.” He looked at Rae with as much significance as he could muster, but she’d just gone pink and shook her head.

*

Once, last summer, he’d brought out the big guns, from Before Sunrise. It was the night before she went to Tunisia on holiday for two weeks. The two of them were outside the pub, just after closing time. Izzy was holding Chloe’s hair back in the alley by the skip, the result of too many Bacardi Breezers. Chop was standing close, but not too close, ready to hold Izzy’s hair, in case she caught the voms. Archie had buggered off early, and Rae and Finn stood around the corner from the action, leaning side by side against the cool brick, not wanting to go home yet.

They’d watched Before Sunrise a couple of weeks ago in his living room. Chop had bailed after fifteen minutes; Izzy followed him. Chloe had had a date, and Archie had stayed, but kept himself on the floor, letting Rae and Finn share the sofa. At the end, all three were quiet, not really sure what to make of the two hour long, intensely intimate conversation they’d just watched.

But there, in the dark, wanting to find a way to tell her how he felt, but not trusting himself to do it right, he said, “If somebody gave the choice right now, to never see you again or to marry you, I would marry you.”

Rae blinked at that for a moment. He could see her considering an eye roll, but instead she just scoffed. “Guess it’s a good thing I’ll be back in two weeks, then, you daft prick.” She left the next morning.

After that, he figured it was a lost cause. In an attempt to get over the whole thing, he started dating a girl who worked at the video store. Hannah was cute and nice and a tiny bit edgy: she wore a nose ring and braided colorful thread into her hair. She also really liked Tarantino. He’d hang out with her during her shift, and they’d make out behind the shop. And then, she moved away after the summer. He found himself back in the sphere of the gang, only now Rae was quieter, didn’t talk to him as much. He didn’t flirt with her for weeks, until she came into the pub one Saturday afternoon with a face like thunder.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry, but then, you’re beautiful all the time, so I’m sorry someone pissed you off.”

Her face contorted through a half-dozen emotions. Then she just sighed, rolled her eyes, and said “Whatever.”

He didn’t even try to convince her, he just asked, “What happened?”

“Just some twats in the street. Thought they’d grown up, but I forgot there are new twats comin’ up all the time.” She sighed once more and pulled her flannel closed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Finn saw red for a moment, but took a deep breath. “If they give you any trouble again, just let me know.”

Rae shook her head. “Thanks, Finn, but I don’t think your girlfriend would like you defending other girls, even if it is from fuckwits.”

“Girlfriend?” he echoed.

“Yeah … your girlfriend, Hannah?”

“She … she moved to Brighton. I thought I said?”

Rae shrugged. “Yeah, but … I thought you were … people can still …” Her voiced faded out.

“Yeah, well … there wasn’t enough there to make it worth all that effort.”

Rae was quiet for a moment. “Oh, yeah? I thought she was cute.”

“Well, yeah, I guess. But cute only goes so far.” Finn sighed, and felt his long-kept secret willing itself to be confessed. It was at the back of his throat, then on the tip of his tongue, and then …

“What are yous two up to?” Chop heaved himself into the booth next to Finn, and Finn just closed his eyes for a long moment and muttered “Nothin’.”

* * * * *

In his room, at 3:47 AM, Finn sighed and stared into the dark, every memory throbbing like a fresh scar on his brain. She was going to go out with this Aaron. He knew it, and he couldn’t think of a way to stop it that wouldn’t make him look like a gigantic dickhead. He groaned out loud into the night.

* * * * *

Finn reckoned he ought to set up a fortune telling stall and travel the county working faires and fetes, because lo and behold, Rae wasn’t at the pub the next night.

Chloe bounced excitedly in her seat and described how Aaron had asked Rae out to a film, right there at the record shop. And how Rae had been so cool and shrugged, but said yes. And Finn just … cracked a little. He felt a fissure open up somewhere inside, the hot black lava of regret and despair bubbling out. He grabbed his cigarettes and swung a leg up and over the bench, heading outside for a smoke.

He didn’t need to go outside. He could smoke in the pub, but he needed to clear his head. To not hear the excited giggles of Izzy and Chloe, to not see Archie’s serious expression that told him what an idiot he was being and had been for years.

But, if he hadn’t gone for a smoke, he wouldn’t have seen Rae and Aaron walk up the block. Rae looking shy, and Aaron staring at her as they made their way along the pavement. Aaron’s arm hidden behind Rae, resting somewhere against her. Her shoulders hunched up a bit, which Finn didn’t know how to read. Was she shy? Did she really like this guy?

He flung his half smoked cigarette into the grass, and debated bailing again, but decided to face his punishment. This was what he deserved for appearing glib and droll and finding his words but not being able to infuse them with any meaning. She was on a date with someone else, smiling shyly at someone else over her shoulder. And Finn was supposed to watch.

* * * * *

Finn wouldn’t have liked Aaron if he’d been a Gallagher brother who ran an animal charity in his spare time. As he was in fact an incredibly boring and self-absorbed first year university student who wanted to teach philosophy, he had no fucking chance of being in any way good enough for Rae. He wanted to get a “Philosophy PhD.” Archie whispered in Finn’s ear, “That’s fuckin’ redundant. PhD means Doctor of Philosophy. Pretentious dumbass.”

Finn would have laughed if it hadn’t all felt so awful. He’d sat around with his thumb up his arse for over two years, and now he was going to watch Rae date this … nothing. This utter wanker.

After a week of Aaron hanging around, Finn almost didn’t go to the pub on Friday, but he couldn’t not if Rae might be there. It was a tic, a compulsion, an addiction to seeing her face. He had to get his fix, even if the side effects kept getting worse and worse. Like Aaron sitting closer and closer, holding her hand, touching her hair … Finn was smoking twice as much as he usually did.

However, tonight when Finn walked into the pub, only Rae and Archie were sitting at their usual table. Finn came over before getting a pint and sat next to Rae, as close as he dared, reveling in the nearness of her for a second before asking, “No Aaron tonight?”

“Uh, no. He said he needed to do some work on a paper or summat. Like, for next semester? I didn’t ask too many questions.”

Finn pulled his lower lip under his front teeth and nodded. He saw Chloe and Izzy heading over, and stood up. “Drink?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure. A—“

“—snakebite?”

Rae smiled. “Yeah. Same old.”

*

When he returned with the drinks, Chloe and Izzy were gushing to Rae about Aaron and how nice he was.

“Yeah, he is,” Rae said, like she were conceding a point. “Plus, he’s, y’know … interested. So, he’s already leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else.”

Finn furrowed his brow at that. Was Rae saying that she was going out with Aaron just because … she thought he was her only option?

He pulled himself closer to the table and said, “But, like, you do like him, right?”

Rae’s face grew thoughtful for a second, her lips pursed out to the side, her eyes squinted in thought. “Well, yeah, ‘course. He’s smart and … I mean, he’s nice and … yeah, I like him.”

Finn tried to catch her eye. “Rae …”

Izzy jumped in to say, “Well, it’s not like you’ve got to marry him. As long as you’re having fun, right?”

Rae nodded slowly. Finn wanted to ask her, “ARE you having fun?” but he just drank his pint and lit another cigarette. Chloe and Izzy got up to order their drinks, and Archie headed to the jukebox. They had a moment alone.

“Y’ought to slow down with those,” Rae murmured. “No sense in _rushing_ towards lung disease.” She smirked half-heartedly.

“Sorry. They … calm me nerves,” Finn admitted.

“Nerves? You? What’ve _you_ got to be nervous about?” Rae nearly scoffed.

Finn cleared his throat, and considered shouting, “You! The fact that you’re dating a knob instead of me, but it’s my fault for being a different sort of knob!”

Instead, he said, “I—the end of summer. Archie’ll be goin’ away again, as well as you and Chloe … maybe Izzy, too. It’ll be … weird … without you all here.”

Rae’s face softened.

“We’ll be back at holidays … I might be home sooner. Who knows if I can hack it?” She forced out a laugh.

Finn didn’t hesitate before saying, “You’re brilliant, Rae. ‘Course you’ll do well!”

She looked down, but a small smile played on her lips. “Thanks, Finn.”

He cleared his throat again, then took a deep breath. “Before, when you were talking about, uh, Aaron … like, ARE you having any fun with him? I just—I wondered. You seem … not like yourself when he’s around.”

Rae was silent for what seemed like a long time, but was probably only a few seconds. “I … I dunno, really. He’s not bad. He’s cute, in a dorky sort of way, and he is pretty smart. Never lets anyone forget it, of course, but … It’s just … no one was ever interested in me when I WAS ‘myself’, so why not just bite my tongue and accept that he’s probably the best I’ll do?”

Finn’s chest physically hurt. Like someone had opened up his chest and sucker-punched his still-beating heart.

He couldn’t stop himself now. Unlike the last three years, where he just smiled and joked and flirted, and kept things light, he actually opened his mouth and said, “Fuck, Rae. I’m sorry.” When he could catch his breath, that’s what he said.

Rae gave him a look that said, “What’re you on about?”

“I should’ve … Fuck.” He stood up. “Fuck. Fuck!” His hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette. He gave up and swayed on the spot, looking at her helplessly. She looked at him like he was losing his mind right in front of her. Appropriate, because that’s what it felt like. Really he was just furious with himself and suddenly so so scared. He saw the girls drifting back toward their table.

“Finn?”

“I’ve gotta … will you … come outside?” He grabbed for her hand and they went out into the beer garden.

“What’s wrong, Finn?” Rae was really worried.

“God … this is going to … okay, I’m sorry, but—“ He leaned himself back against a picnic table for support.

“What?”

“Rae, I like you. So much. I have done for ages. And if you truly believed that that boring fucker is your only choice, then I am a bigger, boring-er fucker than him. But … I couldn’t—I just had to let you know.”

Rae had had her hand on Finn’s shoulder, but now she stepped back. Took herself away from him, and it felt like she’d already moved to Hull. Like she’d teleported two hours away in the space of a second.

He fumbled a cigarette into his hand and somehow lit it. The smoke filled his lungs and brain for a second, mercifully fogging his senses.

“What the fuck, Finn?”

“I know. I know.” He hung his head, shaking it mournfully.

“All that … all those stupid flirty … you—“ Her finger was pointed at him in accusation. “You … but, you didn’t mean any of that stuff. It was just … banter.”

“I didn’t?” He did. He had.

“Those were just … words.”

“Yeah. After you rolled your eyes at me a dozen times, I just kept saying them. Because it was easy. I could tell you how I felt and you didn’t take it seriously. Didn’t take _me_ seriously, I guess. But I shouldn’t have kept at it. I just … I’ve never really been good with words, I guess.”

Rae sputtered in disbelief. “Are you kidding? You’ve got more lines than, than … Hamlet!”

“Yeah, but if I can’t make you believe any of them, then I’m no good with them.” He lit a new cigarette off his old one, not caring what he looked like.

Rae slumped next to him, staring into the middle distance, blinking disbelievingly.

“All that … ROT … about me being ‘hot’,” she didn’t even acknowledge that she’d unwittingly rhymed.

Finn shook his head. “Not rot. Never was.”

“But, I’m … look at me!” She plucked at the Stone Roses tee she was wearing, the worn cotton immediately settled back against the swell of her breasts.

“That’s pretty much all I do when you’re around,” Finn muttered.

“I’m not hot!” she shouted.

“Yes, you ARE,” he bellowed in response. “Your—your ti—ummm, chest is … incredible, and your legs are, like, gorgeous. Your hair drives me fuckin’ crazy, especially when you wear it loose, and-and … your LIPS. I have DREAMS about them … night and day, I just—”

He stopped in mid-sentence. Rae didn’t stop him, didn’t cut him off with a kiss. Finn wasn’t expecting her to. She just got quieter, and bit her bottom lip, which didn’t really help the situation.

“Why did you wait until NOW to tell me?” she whispered.

Finn took a deep drag of his cigarette and sighed a cloud of smoke. “Because … I wasn’t going to. Not if you were happy with this guy. I don’t want you to think that I think I’m some … I’m not saying that I’m … better, or whatever… Fuck.” He sighed again, no smoke this time. “When you said that no one liked you when you were being yourself … that hurt. It hurt to hear you say it; it hurt more to know you really believed it, and it hurt the most to know that you didn’t ever believe me.”

Rae stood up from the table, and took a few steps to face Finn head on.

He glanced up to find her looking him right in the eye. He blinked, but didn’t look away.

“I remember you used to write on me.”

He flushed. It was true. That first summer, before he’d found words, he’d used to scribble messages to her. She never told him to stop, but she never wrote anything back. She’d smile enigmatically across the pub, and he’d wonder if she was enjoying it or humoring him.

“And then you started flirting with me and stopped.”

He pulled his cigarette up to his face, only to find it had burned itself out into the filter. He flicked the butt away. “I didn’t … I weren’t sure how you felt—you never gave anything away.”

“I thought … I thought I did something. Like, you changed, and I didn’t know … I’d started to hope, and then …” Rae dropped her gaze.

Finn scrubbed his hand across his face. He couldn’t have made a bigger mess of this.

“Rae, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything. I just …” He didn’t know what he just was. “And look, if you’d seemed happier, I wouldn’t’ve—I want to believe that I wouldn’t’ve said anything. You don’t have to … if I missed my chance … that’s my fault.” He stood up, hands hanging limp, desperate for a pint or a cigarette or a beer mat to fidget with. He made his hands into fists, flexing the muscles in his forearms.

Rae reached forward and picked up his right hand, still clenched. She wormed her fingers in between his and clasped their palms together. “You are a dickhead,” she said softly.

“I know,” he breathed, too quickly.

“You are a total idiot,” she said, with emphasis.

“I know,” he sighed.

“But, then, so am I.” She shifted back to settle against the picnic table again, still holding Finn’s hand.

He held his breath, then leaned back next to her. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep. I’ve always thought so, and this proves it.”

Finn desperately wanted to look at her expression, but an equal rush of fear prevented him. He glanced at the pub door, willing everyone to stay inside, to not interrupt what could be the most important moment of his life.

The door did not open.

It was just the two of them, in the near dusk, holding hands in silence.

Finn squeezed her fingers between his, and brought his free hand over to caress the back of her wrist. He lightly drummed the pads of his fingers against her soft skin, deliberating. He wanted to write something like he used to, but could only bring himself to trace the shape of a heart. Her hand tightened around his, and he could feel how real and how warm she was, and didn’t know if he could bear her taking her hand out of his.

“Your hand is hot,” he said, feeling stupid.

“Yeeeaaahhh, it is,” Rae replied, almost too clever.

Finn finally looked up.

Rae’s eyes were bright, wet with tears. She looked up for a second to blink them back, but for once she wasn’t rolling her eyes. She was smiling. She took a deep breath and said, “So, what now?”

He had no idea, so he just shrugged, and smiled back.


End file.
